


Rough Trade

by SapphoIsBurning



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1960s, Bittersweet, Cruising, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, Police, Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-05
Updated: 2017-06-05
Packaged: 2018-11-09 06:47:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11099106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SapphoIsBurning/pseuds/SapphoIsBurning
Summary: Dean Cruising BaronBaron Cruising DeanEveryone Cruises Everyone and has 1960’s Gay SexA Love Story With Peckers OutBySappho Is BurningEsquire





	Rough Trade

**Author's Note:**

> This is all based off a three-word prompt that came into my tumblr ask box from some kind anon: "Dean cruises Baron."
> 
> Anon: you're welcome.

 

There were a few known places in Kansas City back then (1962 or so) that you went to during the day for one thing, and at night for something else. The big park uptown was a great place for a picnic during the day, to take the family and the kids if you had ‘em, to experience Middle America in all its splendor. Kickball. Hot dogs. Catching fish in the creek, or trying.

People fished for something else at night.

Most of the time, the cops pretended nothing was going on as long as nobody complained too much about...vagrants. Officially, the park closed a half an hour after sunset. Officially, there wasn’t really anyone to enforce that.

Dean arrived at nine, after the sun was gone and the park had emptied out, driving his T-top up the service road that circled the edge of the park. He left his car by the east bathhouse. Things were quiet.

He greeted a pair of jokers smoking dope behind the outbuilding. He tilted his head upwards in a nod.

“Ooh, serving butch tonight,” Breezy said. Dango just looked Dean up and down approvingly: it was warm and he left off his jacket, just in blue jeans and a tee shirt, pack of cigarettes rolled up in the sleeve.

“How’s the trade?” Dean asked.

Dango rolled his eyes. “Bunch of zhooshy queens.”

“Takes one to know one,” Breezy said. They laughed and Dean shook his head.

“Couple of lost-looking naff bastards walking the trails,” he went on. “Might be your type.”

“I think we scared them,” Dango said.

“They’re here for the perverts, not the dope fiends,” Dean said genially. “The trail, you said?”

“You know where to look,” Tyler said, waving Dean off. “Same as last time.”

He took off on a well known route into the wooded back end of the park pinned in by the highway. There was a full moon. He had a little flashlight but he didn’t really need it.

He heard the guy before he saw him, someone rustling around in the leaf litter and the pine cones off the side of the trail. It could have been a couple people, but when Dean strolled around the curve in the trail, hands in his pockets, he came upon one tall drink of water leaning against a tree trunk. Dean couldn’t see his face well in the dim light.

“Nice night,” Dean said.

“What? Oh. Yeah,” the man said. He stepped forward and Dean saw how tall he was in the moonlight: well over six feet with long dark hair. His plaid button-down shirt was tucked into his slacks. The slump of his shoulders said he was lost. Dean knew the type.

“Walk with me,” Dean said.

“Where do you want to go?” The man asked.

“Does it matter? You busy holding up that tree? It gonna fall over without you?” Dean gestured down the trail with his head. The man looked all around him, like he was waiting for the jig to be up and the fuzz to come streaming out of the woods to arrest him and also tell his parents. But then he followed.

“Do you come here a lot?” the man asked.

Dean shrugged. “When I’m in town.”

The man nodded. “I’m Bar--”

Dean cut him off. “Kid, don’t tell nobody your real name.”

“You don’t know that’s my real name,” the man said. Dean couldn’t see him blush in the moonlight but he could hear it in his voice.

“You just asked me if I come here often. You might as well be wearing a neon sign that says ‘I’m new to cocksucking,’ just to be sure.”

The man, Barry or something, stopped in his tracks. Dean heard his breathing along with the hum of crickets.

“Unless you’re just here to get your dick wet,” Dean said.

“Um,” he said.

“So give me something else to call you,” Dean said. “You can call me Dean.”

“Like James Dean?” the guy said, looking Dean up and down, stepping closer. Dean smelled his aftershave, something cheap and fruity like a college student would wear on a date.

“Sure,” Dean said.

“Call me Corbin,” the other man said.

“I will,” Dean said. He was standing very close to Corbin now, and he hadn’t seen anyone else around since he left the dope smokers back in the parking lot.

Corbin put his hands on Dean’s waist, looking at Dean with cautious seriousness. “It’s not my first time,” he said. “I know what I’m doing.”

Dean put his hands over Corbin’s. They were large and soft, warm through the thin fabric of his shirt. “You don’t look like you’re into rough trade,” Dean said.

Corbin’s hands tightened. “I know what I want,” he insisted, leaning down to press a kiss on Dean’s mouth, hard and rough with his stubble.

“And what is that?” Dean asked, pulling away, walking backwards up the trail. He looked over his shoulder as he turned, going down a side trail that led to a public bathroom.

“You said it,” Corbin said, breathing hard and running a few strides to catch up with Dean. “I’m a. I’m a cocksucker, do you want me to suck your prick, please.”

The yellow light of the toilets cast them both sickly. Dean tilted his head, considering the offer. “Tempting,” he said, teasing. He disappeared through the door of the outbuilding, and Corbin skidded through sloping gravel to follow him in.

The swinging door banged shut behind them, and they were alone. The lights were on, were left on all the time, so convenient for those who came to the park under cover of night. Some people didn’t like to see the faces of the guys they cruised, but Dean was not one of them.

Dean leaned against the white ceramic tile of the wall, arms spread. “What do you think you know about this?” He asked.

Corbin bit his cheek. “What’s there to know,” he said. “I’m not supposed to like it. I know that.”

“D’you think girls are supposed to like it? The taste of dick?”

Corbin’s eyes went wide. “Girls do this too?”

At that, Dean smiled widely. “How do you think they’re steaming up the windows down at the drive-in, son?” He pushed off the wall and approached. With an open palm, he pushed Corbin into one of the stalls. Corbin staggered backward and almost stumbled over the toilet. Dean shut the door behind them and latched it closed.

“Why are we going in here?” Corbin asked.

“You think we’re the only ones who got a good idea about what to do in the park after dark?” Dean asked. “We might have company. Unless you want to give them a show…” He slid a hand up Corbin’s stomach and chest, feeling his surprisingly muscular body under his fingers.

“Can I kiss you again,” Corbin said.

“Sure, kid.”

Corbin glared. “I’m not a kid. I’m twenty-two.”

Dean whistled low. “Fancy that. I’m twenty-five,” he lied. “So kiss me, kid.”

Corbin rolled his eyes like this maddening person was just too much for him, but he put his hands on Dean’s face and drew him in. He pressed Dean’s body up against the closed stall door, getting a leg between his knees and grinding against him. Dean could feel the other man’s hard on through his trousers and ran his hands up Corbin’s arms.

“You’re a big one,” Dean breathed into Corbin’s neck. “Gonna get on your knees for me?”

Corbin gulped and nodded. He ran his hands down Dean’s body, fumbling with his belt buckle and fly. Dean put his hands behind his head, happy to let someone else do the work. When he saw Corbin’s hands shaking, though, he reached down and stilled them.

“We’re just having a little fun,” he said. “It’s okay. I got you.”

“I’m fine,” Corbin said.

Dean’s jeans were unzipped and his belt hung loose, the buckle jangling when he moved. He hooked his thumbs in the elastic band of his underwear and jerked them down, his dick and balls free.

Corbin’s eyes went dark and he got one trembling hand around the base of Dean’s dick, giving it a few strokes before moving in. He sucked the tip into his mouth and closed his eyes.

“You’re real pretty like that,” Dean said, running his fingers lightly over Corbin’s head. “You got anybody to tell you you’re pretty? You probably do. Bet all the girls bat their eyelashes at you. They want you to take them out for milkshakes. They don’t know I got the only milkshake you want. Oh yeah, just like that.”

Corbin sucked harder, hollowing out his cheeks and bobbing his head. His eyes were closed tightly, his fingers gripping Dean’s thighs tight enough to leave a mark. He swallowed around Dean, choking a little and pulling back.

“Easy,” Dean said. “Look at me.”

Corbin sat back on his heels and looked up, mouth wet and red. Dean stroked himself lazily while admiring the blissed out look on Corbin’s face.

“Guys like us gotta help each other out,” Dean said easily. “Give and take. What are you gonna want from me, baby?”

Corbin shook his head. “I don’t. Just let me.”

“I can see you practically creaming your jeans down there. I can get a hand on it, work you real good. Could suck you off. Or we could fuck, if we could find a little place...”

“Oh, god, I--” but Corbin cut himself off by grabbing at Dean’s hips and diving back on his cock, sucking hard and rolling his balls in the palm of his hand. Dean’s eyes *watered* it felt so great, so solid, Corbin’s wet mouth wrenching groans from him.

“Fuck, you’re good,” Dean said, pounding a fist on the wall of the stall. The metal resonated with a loud clang and with a warning tug on Corbin’s hair he shot his load. Corbin didn’t pull off until Dean was panting and sensitive.

Corbin sat back on his heels and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

Dean tucked himself back in one-handed, stroking Corbin’s hair with the other. “You blush like a virgin but I guess you ain’t one. Goddamn.”

Corbin smiled at that, warily. “I told you.” He was breathing a little heavy,

“Get up.” Dean zipped his jeans. He reached behind him to undo the latch on the stall and stepped backward out of it.

Leaning a hand on the toilet paper holder, Corbin got to his feet and brushed himself off.

“Let me see your piece,” Dean said, taking out the pack of cigarettes from his sleeve. He tapped them against his palm.

“Out here?”

“Sure, kid. Come on.” Dean looked over his shoulder. He listened. “Don’t hear anybody coming.”

“Quit playing games, you said…”

Dean smiled, daring him.

“Ah, fine.” Corbin undid his belt with both hands, pulling his zipper down hard. He pulled his hardening cock out of his underwear, looking down and then glancing up at Dean through his own eyelashes.

Dean’s eyebrows went up. “Well.”

“Well what? Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” He shifted, holding the base of his cock with his hand.

“Baby, I would if I could.” Dean took a cigarette out of the pack and put it in his mouth. He pulled out a packet of matches. He stepped closer, taking his time putting the pack away, lighting a match in a long stroke, holding the flame up to the tip of the smoke. He drew in hard, making a bright red cherry, and he put the match out with a flick of his wrist. He dropped it in the sink. “The things I could do with that.” Curls of smoke drifted out of his mouth as he talked, and he exhaled. “I’d try to suck it without choking, but I don’t want to spoil my dinner. I could ride it, but I don’t think this place has got the atmosphere. I’m not sure I’m fit to touch it at all.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“How bout I just watch. Go on.” Dean gestured with his cigarette to Corbin’s hand. “Let me see you.”

Corbin pursed his lips. “My palm’s awful dry.” He held his hand out to Dean.

Dean smiled and licked a big wet stripe up Corbin’s hand, sucking on his fingers for good measure, keeping eye contact all the while. “Better?”

Corbin just shook his head. He wrapped a fist around his dick and gave it an experimental stroke. He grabbed a hold of the sink with his left hand for balance, and closed his eyes, going to town on himself with the right.

“Oh, that’s beautiful,” Dean said.

“Could use a hand,” Corbin grunted.

“Please, let me watch you,” Dean said. He tapped the ash of his cigarette onto the floor.

Corbin looked up at Dean’s nakedly rapt expression. He held Dean’s gaze and stroked himself slower, rubbing his thumb over the tip of his cock, smearing the drop of pre-come.

“Is that how you do it at home?” Dean asked. “Touching yourself like that when nobody else is around. You’ve never shown this to anyone before, have you.”

Corbin grunted, shook his head. He found himself breathing in time with Dean, dark-eyed and struck silent. He took a step closer.

Wind whistled at the door of the outbuilding and branches rattled at the window. Corbin stroked harder and faster. “No time like the present,” he said. He panted and Dean blew a smoke ring at him. Dean was opening his mouth to say something, starting to smile, when Corbin shouted wordlessly and started to come hard, all over his hand and a spatter on Dean’s jeans and his boots. Dean didn’t move out of the way, stayed close, watched.

“What the hell was that?” Corbin asked, catching his breath.

“Best game in town,” Dean said. He brushed at the come on his jeans and kicked his leg, trying to fling it off his boot. It stayed put. “Ah, hell. Should make you lick that off.”

Corbin frowned. “Do other guys do that? That doesn’t sound like much of a picnic.”

Dean shrugged. “I been with a couple guys that’ll get off on it. Doesn’t matter. We’re just trying to have a good time. Fuck the boots. I can shine my own boots.”

A moment of silence passed over them. Dean put a hand on Corbin’s waist, smiling. “They grow’em big in Kansas, I guess,” he said, looking up at Corbin’s face.

“So...you’re *not* from around here?” Corbin asked.

“You are really not supposed to ask people that, and no, I’m not from around here.”

“Where are you from?”

“Cincinnati.”

“Never seen you before.”

“I come through Kansas City once a year with the circus,” Dean said, buckling his belt.

Corbin’s eyebrows shot up. “Are you one of those...”

“Carnies?” Dean asked. “Why, you afraid all of a sudden?”

“No,” Corbin replied quickly, tucking himself back in his underwear and his pants and fastening the buckle of his belt as well. “Do you set up the rides?”

“I don’t set up the ride, I am the ride,” Dean said, and Corbin spit out a guffaw.

“How’s that?” Corbin asked. “Other than, you know.” He gestured between the two of them and around at the rest of the bathroom. “This.”

“I’m a wrestler,” Dean said. “I work the Midwest territories. I travel around with the circus shows because they usually own the rings, but there’s a few promotions here and there in Missouri and Kansas and shit that I can turn up and make a few bucks a night at. It’s a way to get by.”

“Wow,” Corbin said. Dean caught his eyes and they were wide with wonder. A shy smile lit up his face. “I saw one of those shows back when I was a kid. You guys really beat the tar out of each other, don’t you? You guys and the gals too. Gosh.”

“You’re a picture of a mark,” Dean said, shaking his head. He opened the door and left the stall. Corbin followed.

“Say, what do you mean by that?” Corbin asked.

“I mean you’re. Ah hell. It means you’re a sucker.”

“Well...I thought we established that,” Corbin said. And Dean’s face lit up with surprise and delight, and they both laughed until tears came out of their eyes.

“Walk me to my car?” Dean said.

“Carnies have cars?” Corbin asked.

“Sure as shit,” Dean said. “How else we gonna get to the next town?”

“Ride the elephants, I don’t know!”

The moon lit their way as they made their way back to the parking lot.

“So what’s your deal?” Dean asked.

“Oh, I’m a student,” Corbin said without making eye contact.

“What are you studying?”

“Psychology and sociology. What makes people tick, you know? It’s very fascinating.”

“Could learn a lot about that from a couple nights under the tents,” Dean said.

“Is that an invitation?”

“I didn’t say I’d buy you a ticket,” Dean said. He scuffed the gravel of the edge of the lot with his toe. The stones cracked and roared…

Their heads snapped up at the crunch of tires on the gravel. Police cruisers were making their way up the service road on the double.

Dean’s mouth went dry. He swallowed, tried to catch his breath. “Shit, it’s the fuzz, we gotta--”

A cop on a motorcycle was coming up the shoulder.

“It’s okay, just stay behind me.” Corbin spoke firmly.

“No, kid, you don’t--”

The cop put down the kickstand on his motorcycle and hopped off, sidling over to them. Others got out of a cruiser with flashing lights and headed toward the bathhouse. Dean curled his toes inside his boots and hoped Dango and Breeze had finished whatever the fuck they were doing, or at least didn’t have any more dope on them for the pigs to find.

“Gentlemen, can you tell me what you’re doing in the park this late?” The officer said.

“Workouts, Officer Orton,” Corbin said brightly. “This is Dean, he’s my new trainer.”

A beat of silence hung in the air.

“Yup,” Dean said, glancing at Corbin. He knew when to go along with a con.

The officer squinted at Corbin’s face. “Baron Corbin? Jesus, son, you boys picked a hell of a place to throw the kettlebell around. There are perverts in these woods. They’ll snatch you right off the trails.”

“Gee, Dean, have you seen anyone like that in the park tonight?” Corbin asked.

Dean’s eyes went wide with performed surprise. “Perverts? No sir, no perverts here. We must have just missed them.”

“And thank god for that, with the big game coming up on Saturday. Can’t wait for it, Baron!” The cop slapped him on the back and Corbin gave him a winning smile.

“Thanks for the warning sir,” he said. “Dean, maybe we should go back to my place to finish up.”

“What? I mean, sure,” Dean said.

“You boys stay safe. Fred and Mike will wave you out.” The cop waved to his people and walked off toward them.

“What the fucking hell was that?” Dean asked after the cop was out of earshot.

“That was me saving your ass,” Corbin said. “And inviting you home. I don’t think we’re done here.”

Dean looked at Corbin in surprise and admiration. “The big game?”

Corbin looked down, probably blushing but the dim light didn’t show it. “Well, I’m on the football team. S’how I pay for college and all.” He gulped. “A lot of people in town know us ball players.”

“I can see that,” Dean said in a low voice. “But, we better be going before the pigs change their mind. How did you get here?”

Corbin sighed. “I just live up the road. Took a long walk.”

Dean flicked his keys around his finger, spinning them until they were a blur to Corbin’s eyes. “Convenient.”

“You’re telling me,” Corbin said.

“By yourself or with roommates?”

“One roommate,” Corbin said, walking around to the other side of the car. “He’s gone a lot.”

Dean unlocked the driver’s door and slid in. He reached over to unlock the passenger’s side. “Is he gone tonight?”

“If he’s not, we’ll just have to be quiet,” Corbin said. “You’re my trainer. We might need to do some *exercises*.”

The dome lights illuminated their faces. Dean looked at Corbin with admiration. “I wouldn’t have pegged you as a sneaky one. I like you even more already.”

Corbin’s arms were suddenly pebbled with goosebumps. He shivered and rubbed at himself despite the summer warmth. “Hang a left out of the park.” He turned the crank to roll down the window and waved warmly at the police. “Bye, fellas! Thanks!” His stomach did flips when he saw them perp walking someone out of the south bathhouse.

“Roll that back up,” Dean said in a low voice.

Corbin did so.

“Fuck,” Dean said. “Fuck ‘em in their ears, all of them. Fuck them with their own batons. All they do is hurt us.” He hung his head over the steering wheel.

“Us?” Corbin asked.

“Queers,” Dean said firmly. “You know. Cocksuckers. Faggots. Sissies. They can’t let us have anything, even a quick fuck in the woods or a goddamn bathroom. Could you see who they were arresting?”

“Someone with red hair,” Corbin said. “No one I know.”

“Fuck,” Dean said again, softer this time. He signaled and then turned. They were heading up a slight incline, streetlights popping up like fireflies.

“I’m sorry,” Corbin said. “You don’t have to come over if you don’t want to.”

“Seems like it’d be a waste,” Dean said. “They’re all down here busting up the park, doesn’t leave nobody to bust up your house. You’re scott free tonight, kid.”

Corbin felt the back of his neck prickle this time.

“Do the people *you* know understand?” Corbin asked. “Is the circus better?”

“Jesus, better than what? Than living in an alley in Ohio? Yeah, it’s fucking better than that. I’m not the only person like me that I know, but it’s not like I wear it on my sleeve or nothin’. But the circus takes all types. Cross-dressers. Human pincushions. Bigamists. Takes more than a homosexual to get them to raise an eyebrow.”

Corbin smiled at that part. “Can’t say a college football team is much like that. I just try to not get noticed. Keep my head down and run smack into the other guy.”

Dean chuckled softly. “Sounds like you could be a wrestler, kid. Got the build.”

“I am. And a baseball player,” Corbin shrugged. “I want to play for the Chiefs. My old man always wanted me to go to the Super Bowl but any pro team would do.”

“Where’s this house you were telling me about,” Dean said, changing the subject.

“Go two more intersections and then turn right. Third driveway.”

“Got a garage?”

“Carport. If Joe’s home, park on the street.”

“Nosy neighbors?”

Corbin shook his head. “Mostly college students renting out here. Quiet ones.”

Dean nodded. He braked to a stop and looked both ways, then continued. “You’re twenty-two. How long have you known?”

Corbin sighed and leaned his head against the cool glass of the window. “Forever,” he said. “As long as I knew girls were different from boys.”

“You get beat up?” Dean asked, not making eye contact. He watched the road studiously.

“A little,” Corbin said. “Until I got big. My old man never caught on but I think my ma knows.” He shook his head. “Johnny Football Star. He studies so hard, no time for girls.”

“Really?” Dean said. “They buy that?”

“I got a friend to come to dances with me. Alexa’s pretty swell. She knows.”

“It’s good to have friends,” Dean said. “Here?”

“Yeah. Joe’s gone. Probably visiting his...friend,” Corbin said.

Dean turned into the driveway and put the car in park under the awning of the carport. “Like that?”

“Sort of,” Corbin said.

“Sort of’s good enough,” Dean said. He turned off the ignition. “Still want me to come in?”

Corbin’s mouth dropped open. “Yes, please,” he said.

They got out of the T-bird, locking the doors out of habit, checking them. Corbin fished a key on a leather fob out of his shirt pocket and unlocked the side door. He pushed it open and turned on the light.

The kitchen was strewn with papers and books. Dean could see a chemistry text and some papers with indecipherable formulas written in pencil, along with some dirty coffee cups. Corbin shut the door and locked it, shutting the blinds.

And then he was on Dean, pressing him against another closed door, his lips sweet and dry and closed. Dean smiled into Corbin and licked in. Their hands searched each other. Corbin grabbed Dean’s hair and Dean got his hands hooked behind Corbin’s neck.

“Not even gonna offer me a drink?” Dean said into Corbin’s neck.

“Mmph,” Corbin murmured, licking his way along the crease between Dean’s neck and shoulder. He pulled at his tee shirt to get to more of his skin. Dean’s cigarettes fell out of where they had been folded securely into the cuff of his sleeve and clattered to the floor.

“Shit,” Corbin said, pulling away. “Sorry.”

“S’okay, kid. I take it you don’t bring a lot of company home.”

Corbin brushed a few stray hairs away from his own face. “It’s been a while.” He looked away and sighed himself into laughing. “How’s about that drink.” He stepped backward back into the kitchen and went to the icebox. “I got some Cokes.”

“Sounds alright.”

Corbin pulled two bottles out and went to a drawer for an opener. He popped the caps off and carried the open bottles back between the fingers of one broad hand.

Dean took one and tilted it at Corbin in a toast. Corbin clinked the neck of his bottle against Dean’s and they sat down in a couple of mismatched chairs pulled up to the table.

“What are we drinking to?” Corbin asked.

Dean sucked his teeth. “Who toasts with a Coke,” Dean said.

“There’s whiskey if you want it,” Corbin said. “I told my ma it’s only for medicinal purposes when she saw it in the cabinet.”

Dean let out one loud laugh. “Maybe later,” he said. He took a long slow drink from his bottle, wrapping his lips around it. Corbin watched, took in Dean’s slim figure, tight with muscles. He picked out a few faint scars visible under the lights of the house that couldn’t be seen under the moon.

“So when did *you* know?” Corbin asked, furrowing his brow.

Dean’s mind skipped to the first time somebody paid him for it. No, don’t bring that up, he thought and shook it out of his head. “I like girls just fine,” Dean said. “I like...everybody.”

“If girls do it for you, why this? You *like* sneaking around?”

“I don’t like doing what people tell me to do,” Dean said testily. “Sides, I’m not getting a girl knocked up and leaving her. It’s a bad way to be.”

Corbin nodded.

Dean leaned forward over the table. “I don’t know many girls what can give me what you can.” He leered.

Corbin tugged at the collar of his shirt. “Many?”

“I said, the circus takes all types.”

Putting his empty glass bottle down on the table, Corbin swallowed hard. He straightened his posture, trying to match Dean’s swagger. He stood up, a slow scratching noise coming from his chair against the linoleum. In a few paces, he was around the table and Dean was on his feet too.

Dean smiled encouragingly and brushed the back of one finger against Corbin’s cheek. Corbin shivered, feeling his whole body bristle like he was shocked.

Corbin inclined his head toward the staircase and Dean nodded. They went in silence. The floorboards creaked. The wallpaper kept peeling, the house nicer than Dean’s last flophouse but about the right level of disaster to rent to college boys. Corbin turned on the lights as they went, and at the top of the stairs he led Dean into the second of three doors.

They were inside. Dean put his hands on Corbin’s chest and pushed him backwards, backing him all the way up to the bed.

“Hold up,” said Corbin. “I need the Vaseline, you goddamn pervert.”

Dean grinned, practically drooling at this point, barely able to contain his excitement. His leg bounced and he shifted his weight back and forth.

“Come on snake, let’s rattle,” Dean said, eyes glinting with danger and laughter.

Corbin left Dean to rummage around in a drawer while Dean prowled the room, touching stuff and looking around. He looked at Corbin’s football trophies and dirty socks and piles of papers and books, and piles of clean clothes not hung up and how much of a fucking mess the place was, but he also looked at the bed. It was rumpled and unmade but the sheets were new, smooth cotton.

“I got it,” Corbin said, holding up a glass jar with a blue label, but Dean was already one step ahead, pulling his shirt off over his head and flicking it away. He sat down to take off his boots, untying them slowly and making obscene faces.

Corbin moved on him as soon as they were off, kissing him and touching his body. With a soft growl he kissed Dean’s face and neck and ground his crotch against Dean’s thigh, straddling him.

Dean got his hands working too, untucking Corbin’s shirt and unbuttoning it from bottom to top, ripping one button off and not caring, pulling it down around his arms, unbuckling his belt and whipping it off, thumbing open the fly, just messing him up all over in the the frantic attempt to get his clothes off.

The moment they were both naked hung silently and heavily between them. They stared into each other’s eyes. Corbin touched the corner of Dean’s mouth with his thumb and then they were moving, colliding in a kiss. Dean was struck with wonder, never having cruised anyone so...Wally Cleaver. Corbin had never kissed anyone this Brando. Neither could quite believe this was real. The body of the other was familiar and unfamiliar at the same time, like a funhouse mirror.

“I’m twenty-one,” Dean said, pulling away from the kiss but still hanging on.

“What?”

“I’m younger than you, I’m sorry. I don’t know why I lied.” He kissed Corbin’s shoulder as their cocks rubbed together.

“We all pretend sometimes,” Corbin said. “Are we ever honest with strangers?”

“Are we still strangers?” Dean breathed.

Corbin didn’t answer, just pulled back and grabbed the little glass jar, greasy on the outside, trying to get the lid open. He flicked the white metal top away and stared into the jar. “Dean?” he said, frowning a question.

“You’ve never done this before, have you.”

Corbin’s eyes were wide as he froze.

“Give it here,” Dean said.

Corbin handed over the jar.

Dean slicked two fingers up with a big glob of petroleum jelly and tucked a knee up to his chest. He reached underneath himself and with one finger then two worked himself. Corbin stared in awe. Dean made little whimpering noises and gave little shivers as he worked.

“Oh my god,” Corbin said. “Holy Jesus.”

“Jesus ain’t coming around tonight,” Dean said. He rolled his hips. Corbin watched and palmed himself, feeling the bead of wetness at the tip of his own cock.

“Are you ready?” Corbin asked. “Be ready.”

“Not yet,” Dean said. “You got a hell of a piece.”

Corbin shook himself and got half an idea about what to do with what was right in front of him.

He ran one hand up Dean’s thigh and got the other around Dean’s dick, touching it more slowly than he had in the park, with more reverence now that he could see Dean’s naked body spread out before him. Dean moaned, getting his fingers deeper. Corbin saw him crook three fingers into himself--it made his dick twitch seeing this man, whose real name was certainly not Dean, reveal himself in other ways.

Corbin got a finger of grease from the jar and worked Dean’s dick a little, then his own. He swallowed a mouthful of saliva, his body reacting as if to a feast.

“Okay snake, let’s rattle,” Dean said. He wiped his fingers on his thigh, then the bed sheet. He swung his legs up sideways. “How you wanna do this?”

Corbin crinkled his nose.. “Don’t you have to be bent over...”

Dean laughed, his strawberry blonde curls splaying on the pillowcase. “Nah. C’mere. You ever done this with a girl?”

Corbin pressed his lips together.

“Jeez, didn’t think I’d be teaching dance lessons, okay big breakfast, you want to drive or should I?”

“I...” Corbin thought about things he had read, pictures he had seen of what men could do with each other if they weren’t afraid. “I want to drive.”

Dean nodded. “Come here. Kneel up over me.”

Corbin stepped softly over to the bed and fell down over Dean, his hands framing Dean’s face.

“Good,” Dean said. He spread his legs and lifted them up, hooking an ankle behind Corbin’s back. He guided Corbin’s hand down, down under him to feel his slick asshole. “I want you bad. I want you right here.”

Corbin nodded.

“You slicked yourself up real good, Johnny Football Hero, so time to score.” Corbin started to thrust forward with his hips, but Dean put a hand up. “Hold on to your piece at first. It’ll help you find the goal.”

“You don’t have to use sports metaphors,” Corbin said, not sure whether to laugh. He laughed, and Dean laughed, and then Corbin grabbed the base of his cock, now rock hard and throbbing with a faint pulse. He rocked forward and put the head of his cock against Dean’s body. He pushed, and felt Dean push back. It slipped in like magic, like a fucking dream. He kept pushing and Dean wrapped his legs around him tighter.

“That’s it,” Dean said. “I’d drive halfway across the country for a piece of this, Jesus, Corbin.”

Corbin’s balls pressed against Dean’s body as he was fully seated. He pulled back gingerly and thrust again. Dean sucked in a breath.

“This is so good,” Corbin said. “What does it feel like for you?”

“Like the opposite of empty?” Dean grunted. “Now fuck me, you can figure out the rest.”

Corbin began to move like his body told him to. He snapped his hips and a moan bloomed from Dean’s lips. He pressed Dean into the mattress by the shoulders and he got back words of encouragement. “Shine, baby.” He covered Dean’s body with his own and took pleasure in the sweet connection.

Sweat dripped down his forehead. The room was warm now and they didn’t dare open the windows. The ceiling fan spun lazily and rippled the papers and the hair on Corbin’s arms. Their chests slid together and Corbin tasted the salt of Dean’s neck. He touched his damp hair, grasping.

Dean’s hard prick was pinned between them, and Corbin could feel it slip against his chest. On instinct he grabbed for it pushing himself up with his other arm.

“Oh, yeah, oh.” Dean’s eyes were wide, white showing all the way around his pupils. His eyes were starting to well up and Corbin saw a single tear splash down the side of Dean’s face. He wiped it away. “Dammit, harder.” He shut his eyes.

Corbin leaned in to kiss Dean’s eyelashes and got salt from there too. Dean’s legs were tight around his waist and he drove in, breathing hard, his heart racing.

“Are you okay?” Corbin asked.

“Don’t stop,” Dean said through clenched teeth, “please don’t stop.”

Everything was too much. The lights, the buzzing in his ears, the slick tightness of Dean’s ass, the whimpering coming from the other man as he demanded through tears harder, more, god yes, it’s never, why, I’m there, I’m gonna. And his hand was wet as Dean spilled.

“It’s never been like that before,” Dean said, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.

“Sorry,” Corbin said, starting to get up.

“That *good*,” Dean said. He caught Corbin’s wrist. He hiccuped. “I like the way you make me feel.”

“How’s that?” Corbin asked. He grabbed a discarded tee shirt from the floor and cleaned up his stomach and hand, then laid back down.

“Safe,” Dean said.

Something loosened in Corbin’s chest. “Oh,” he said. And he lay down next to Dean, wrapping an arm around him.

“That’s nice,” Dean said.

“Just gonna close my eyes for a bit,” Corbin said into Dean’s neck. He sank into the pillow and shut his eyes.

“Night, love.”

And then he opened his eyes, and it was morning, and Dean was gone.

Corbin thrashed around, startled by the sun and wondering if it was all a dream. He looked at the clock and rushed to get dressed for class, scrubbing at his face and body without time for a shower.

He dashed downstairs. There were two empty Coke bottles on the table, and the side door was unlocked. Couldn’t be a dream.

He hopped on his bike and headed to campus, feeling a little soreness in his hips. Unusual activity. Not something he had trained for.

He slid into his abnormal psychology class just before the professor began his lecture. Alexa was sitting in their usual spot. Corbin sat down, making too loud a noise when he dropped his books.

“What happened to you?” Alexa asked under her breath with wide eyes.

After class, he told her. They walked across the quad under oak trees not quite red yet, the fall creeping up even though September was warm.

“He said he was with the circus,” Corbin said, carrying Alexa’s books with his to her next class.

“I can take you by,” Alexa said. “Tonight.”

Corbin nodded. He handed the history textbook back to Alexa and walked off to the field, for practice.

That night, he got into Alexa’s Chevy and they drove by the fairgrounds just over the county line.

They were gone, everyone. Nothing but a few handbills blowing around in the breeze and the holes from tent stakes to say there had been anyone there at all, and that the night hadn’t just been a memory.

Alexa bought him a milkshake and didn’t make him talk about it anymore.

And if people at the circus wondered why Dean Ambrose got so hung up on listening to the broadcast of some Kansas college football game the next Saturday, clutching a transistor radio behind a closed tent flap, then no one was the wiser.

No one at all.


End file.
